


Rainbow Asshole

by myexplodingcat



Category: Inktale - Fandom, Undertale
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Gen, Suicide mention, at least I hope it's close to canon ink, error is clueless, ink is a lovable jerk, ink loses his paint bottles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9140128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myexplodingcat/pseuds/myexplodingcat
Summary: Error finally figures out how to capture Ink and stop him encouraging the creation of new universes and preventing Error from destroying them, but keeping Ink in the antivoid without the brush and paints he could use to escape has unexpected consequences. For a Tumblr request.





	

Error reached out for Ink's soul with his strings, but the bastard dodged away again, laughing.  
"Good luck with that!" Ink called, dancing past another attempt.  
Error pursued him through a deserted Snowdin, past a cowering Shyren as they ran through Waterfall, and finally chased the multicolored brat down a dead end.  
Error didn't buy it. Ink knew his way around too well to let himself be cornered. Error stepped carefully forward--  
SPLAT!  
A few dozen ERRORs clouded his already blurry vision. The only other thing he could see was bright green. Obviously Ink had fired off his paintbrush and, from the sound of obnoxious giggling disappearing behind him, had escaped.  
Error was not about to let Ink end the fight there. He had already torn down big chunks of the Ruins, and if Ink managed to rebuild them, he'd be able to kick Error out of the universe for a while and delay its destruction. Why in the multiverse would Ink even want to save this world? It was a doomed genocide timeline anyway! Plus, the characters all had googly eyes. It was making Error mad.  
His vision returned when he fell into some water. The paint pooling around him only made him angrier. Error got up and started using his strings to pull himself onward faster and tear things down at the same time.  
When he finally caught up with Ink, he had the element of surprise: Ink's back was turned as he was busy detailing the crack in a wall for a tiny Froggit. But when Error's strings finally connected with Ink in a way that should have grabbed his soul...  
Ink turned around.  
"Welp! You got me." His huge grin was infuriating.  
"YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A SOUL?" Error demanded.  
"Nope!" There were tears of laughter beading in his eyes. "And you spent all this time trying to get it!"  
And with that, he sprinted off again. Error glared at the Froggit, brought the wall back down, and bolted after Ink. Did he ever get tired?  
After finally chasing down the Energizer Bunny again--back into the same corridor as last time, with Ink's giggling still echoing from the flower--Error stared into the face of a direct challenge. The little Crayola shit had his hands on his hips, and was still grinning, as if to say, "So what are you going to do now?"  
Error approached him. He was fairly certain he wasn't going to get painted again so soon; Ink wanted to see what he'd do.  
Error knew what to do. He pulled down the wall behind Ink.  
"IF I CAN'T HAVE YOUR SOUL," said Error as the rock collapsed on a very surprised Ink, "I'LL JUST HAVE TO TAKE YOUR BODY INSTEAD. LET'S GO, NEON FREAK."  
He dragged Ink, now unconscious, out from under the rubble, opened a portal to the antivoid, and left. This universe could wait. He had more important things to do.

"I THINK I'D BETTER TAKE THESE," Error said, picking Ink's brush and paint sash off his unconscious form. "I DON'T WANT YOU CLOGGING UP MY ANTIVOID WITH USELESS TRASH... OR FINDING A WAY TO ESCAPE. I'LL FIND A PLACE FOR THESE..."  
Error opened another portal, leaving Ink behind but free. There wasn't really a way to tie Ink up, nor did he really need to since he'd taken all of Ink's tools.  
Ink woke about a minute later. It took him a moment to register his surroundings. This wasn't his own home; that hadn't been this empty for... well... time didn't make a whole lot of sense in the Doodle Sphere, but it had been long ago.  
The whiteness was dizzying. He felt himself start to panic; he couldn't breathe; he--  
Where was his brush?  
...Where were his paints?  
This was bad.  
This was VERY bad.  
He couldn't see anything.  
Ink shut his eyes hard, but he could feel the emptiness around him, the lack of life and color and everything that made him feel safe. He curled up and tried to focus on the last doodle he'd made on his scarf, but it just reminded him that he didn't have anything to draw with.  
When Error returned fifteen minutes later (Outertale time), it was to find Ink awake but shaking violently and hyperventilating. When Ink saw Error, he didn't have the reaction Error expected.  
Error wanted Ink to be angry, to finally take something seriously, to fight him for real, to make a genuine effort to hurt him. But all Ink did was cling to him.  
"Someone's here," Error could barely hear under Ink's breath. "Something's here."  
Error tried desperately to shake off Ink's hand from his ankle, hating the touch, but Ink clung on even more desperately. Finally their eyes met. Ink's pupils were changing color and shape so frenetically it started to give Error a headache.  
"GO AWAY," Error said. "GET OFF ME."  
Finally he wrenched free and walked on, only to hear panicked sobbing behind him. Error started to wonder if this wasn't really Ink, but some copy of himself Ink had made to trick Error--an illusion, maybe. Or maybe it was an alt-universe version of Ink all along. This couldn't be the right guy--Error had never seen Ink act anything other than annoyingly cheerful or focused and concentrated. The real Ink was out there, and the sooner Error found him, the less Ink would have to tease him about.  
It seemed the chase was on again.

The next day (roughly), Error still hadn't found Ink in any of the AUs he frequented. New AU building seemed to have slowed down, too--not that Error was complaining. Was Ink actually lying low? Maybe it was part of the prank. Error decided to check on the fake.  
He seemed a little grayer than usual, Error thought, but decided it was his bad eyesight. Fake Ink was sitting, rocking back and forth, his eyes still switching shape and color about twice a second. Slower than yesterday. The edge of his scarf had been shredded. Was he actually destroying something?  
Error noticed the fake Ink was talking into thin air, quietly. He seemed to be telling a story to no one. Error tried to follow the plot for a few minutes, but as time went on it made less and less sense. Just as Error was about to leave, the fake Ink caught sight of him and stopped talking. Error expected him to run up and grab him again, but he just stared instead. A vague, semi-fake smile appeared on his face and he started to tear up again.  
"Do you know where my paints are? I need my paints. I... need..."  
"NO WAY, RAINBOW ASSHOLE. I'M NOT LETTING YOU ESCAPE UNTIL I FIND THE REAL INK."  
"I want... need... colors," he said faintly, blinking. "It's too white. It's all white. Nothing is finished. I'm not finished. I need... colors."  
At this point, the fake Ink started singing.  
Error had had enough. He stomped over. "COME ON, SNAP OUT OF IT. THIS IS JUST PATHETIC."  
Fake Ink jumped up and grabbed the collar of Error's hoodie. He actually looked angry, finally. "Where's my brush?" he demanded. "What did you do with my sash? Where is it?! I need it or--"  
"OR WHAT?" Error interrupted, shoving fake Ink off of him. "OR YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO GO ANYWHERE, THAT'S WHAT. YOU KNOW, MAYBE YOU ARE THE REAL INK, BUT I'M NOT TAKING ANY CHANCES. I'M GOING OUT AGAIN."  
Feeling oddly satisfied by this encounter, Error opened another portal and stepped out, closing it behind him.  
Ink noticed the sudden whiteness, instantly became dizzy again, and sat back down. There was nothing he could do.

After another day of destroying universes with no opposition and fruitless searching, Error started to believe that he'd actually captured Ink. After all, if Ink had created a double, he'd have to have made a soul for him, right? But this double didn't have any sort of soul to tie up, or Error would've put him away rather than endure the idiot's following him around and whining and increasingly garbled storytelling and singing. Eventually Error gave him some yarn and a set of old knitting needles; a few hours later he returned and found Ink strangely calm. Error was sure he looked paler than before.  
This seemed like the right time to try getting some answers.  
"WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU," Error asked.  
"It's too white," Ink said, not looking up. "There's no one here. There's nothing here."  
"SO?"  
"I'm afraid."  
Error made a face. That didn't make any sense; he didn't believe it.  
"WHY DO YOU LIKE KNITTING SO MUCH."  
Ink was halfway through the yarn. He didn't answer. "I need paint," he said.  
"YOU CAN'T HAVE PAINT. YOU'RE MY PRISONER."  
"I need it."  
"WELL YOU'RE NOT GETTING IT."  
Ink started rocking back and forth again. Error left him alone.

Error sat on a meteor in Outertale. He didn't really want to be back at the antivoid at the moment. He wasn't sure why he found this Ink-shaped shell so depressing. Every time Error saw him, he looked a little paler, his expression a little flatter. Ink's eyes weren't changing color so much any more; some of his usual colors didn't show up at all. Error almost missed the battles between them, the resistance, the game. Without Ink around, destroying things felt like just a job, not a challenge.  
But more than that...  
It always seemed like Ink actually cared about Error, to some degree. He'd never tried to seriously hurt Error, just stop him, just make him mad. Error knew he was as much of an abomination as the things he destroyed on a daily basis, but he would've thought his calling would except him from Ink's protection.  
Apparently not.  
Now everyone he met just downright hated him. Turned out Ink had been the only one who hadn't. It hadn't been so noticeable before.  
Ink had started humming a garbled, half-finished song Error had never heard. It sounded like a song out of the original universe that Error couldn't place, but it was altered, like so many of the themes found in other universes. Ink's rendition of it was too jumbled to discern.  
He kept talking to what he seemed to think was a Papyrus--his own, by the sound of it. That was confusing. Error thought Ink was like him: no family or universe of his own, apart from an almost empty place to rest.  
Clearly Ink was going nuts. But he'd become boring.  
Error stood up, sighed, and opened a portal back to the antivoid.  
Ink was nearby. When he saw Error, he immediately grabbed his hoodie again and, for the first time in days, made direct eye contact. He was almost as pale as his surroundings.  
"You have to destroy me," he said, with alarming clarity. "I can't keep going like this. Please."  
Pause.  
This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. This wasn't Ink.  
Error ran.  
He ran back to Outertale.  
He grabbed the paints, the brush, the sash.  
When he returned, Ink looked like he was about to break down again.  
"LOOK," Error said, putting the sash back over Ink's shoulders with a minimum of contact. He pushed the brush back into Ink's hands. "THERE. YOU HAVE YOUR PAINTS. NOW COME ON AND FIGHT ME OR SOMETHING ALREADY."  
Something white flickered in Ink's eyes. Robotically, he started to screw the cap from one of the bottles, then drank from it.  
Error wasn't sure what he was doing. Wasn't paint poisonous? Ink just wanted his brush back, right? Was he trying to destroy himself anyway?  
Ink gasped, blinked. Suddenly, his eyes turned the magenta of the paint he'd just consumed. Quickly he drank from each of the other bottles. Error watched in fascination. Each time Ink took another color, his eyes started to show the color again. Soon his pupils' shapes became varied again, too. Ink's body language became more fluid and animated, less stiff.  
Surprisingly, after recovering with his paints, Ink started shaking violently again. He balanced a smile on his face, said, "You live here? No wonder you're so messed up," made a grand swipe with his brush, and promptly left the antivoid.  
Error thought about following him, but decided not to. Instead he wandered off a bit, sat down, and opened a viewing portal to Undernovela.  
He'd catch up with Ink later.  
Rainbow asshole.


End file.
